


Partners With Benefits

by Spotsy



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Man From Uncle, Relationship(s), Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:51:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spotsy/pseuds/Spotsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon finds an unwanted visitor at Illya's apartment and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners With Benefits

Napoleon sighed as he loudly rapped his knuckles on the door of Illya’s apartment. He’d lost his key, or he’d have just let himself in. He and Illya often would enter each other’s apartments uninvited. It was a prerogative that went with being partners-- the guy that had your back 24/7 had the key to your apartment.

“Who is it?” A sleepy voice called out. Napoleon’s nose wrinkled. Was that Illya’s voice? He looked at his watch. Strange, Illya was usually up and dressed by now.

“Illya?”

Abruptly, the door opened and a disheveled, disgruntled-looking Illya in pajamas frowned at him. “What do you want?”

Before Napoleon could comment on Illya’s less than dignified attire, a dark-haired man in a bathrobe came up from behind Illya. “Illya, sweetheart, where would you like me to put-- oh hello.” He looked up at Napoleon and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Maybe I’ll just…” he made a motion with his hand, and then vanished into the next room.

For a moment, Napoleon stared after him, then looked at Illya. “Who is that man?”

“Just a man.” Illya answered casually. Too casually.

Napoleon scowled. “A man who walks around your apartment in a bathrobe and calls you ‘sweetheart’ is NOT just a man.”

“Jealous?”

“Very funny.”

“Why are you here anyway?” Illya asked coldly. “I was given a day off, remember. So were you, as a matter of fact.”

“Which is exactly why I’m here. I thought maybe you’d like company, but I can see you’re doing very well on your own.” Napoleon returned, just as coldly, letting an edge of sarcasm sharpen his tone.

Illya’s eyes darkened. “What business is it of yours what I do on my off time?”

“It isn’t. I just thought you had better taste in company.”

“I suppose by better company, you mean you?” Illya asked sarcastically.

Napoleon raised his chin defensively. “Well, when it comes down to it, yeah, why not?”

“Maybe you’re not my type.”

“Since when did you even have a type?”

Illya snorted. “Everybody has a type, Napoleon. You just never bothered to find out what mine might be.”

Napoleon sniffed. “Well, if that guy is your type, then you have very poor taste.”

“Have you finished or shall I just slam the door in your face?”

Napoleon ignored Illya’s question and came back with a question of his own. “Why are you sleeping with this guy? What’s so special about him?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

Illya rolled his eyes. “Fine, then, if you must know. I’m sleeping with him, because I like him.”

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. “Is that all?”

Illya shrugged. “We have a connection, he and I.”

“And we don’t?” Napoleon asked, not stopping to even consider the connotations. Illya didn’t blink an eyelash.

“That’s different. We’re partners, not partners.” he replied coolly.

Napoleon frowned. “I don’t like this guy you call your partner. When did you start going out with him?”

“Since when did you start taking such an interest in my love life?” Illya asked irritably.

“Since you started having one.” Napoleon retorted. “Quite frankly, it bothers me.”

Illya gave an exasperated look. “Well, if it bothers you so much, then do something about it.” And with that, Illya slammed the door in his face.

Impulsively, Napoleon opened the door and barged in.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Doing something about it.” Napoleon retorted over his shoulder.

In a few minutes, he returned, holding the protesting man in the bathrobe by the collar. “Don’t come back” he hissed in the man’s ear just before he threw him out, slamming the door behind him.

Illya stood regarding him with his arms crossed. “Happy now?”

Napoleon looked grimly at him. “Not yet.”

Without another word, Napoleon roughly pushed Illya hard against the wall and kissed him, long and hard. Suddenly, he broke off, stopping to consider Illya’s now flushed and eager face. He smiled. “Now, I am.” Then Napoleon took a deep breath—he wouldn’t be coming back up for air for a while…

******

“Illya?”

“Hm?”

“Is that my key?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a sneaky Russian...”

Illya laughed. “It’s just now dawning on you?”

Napoleon’s response was a kiss.

******

“So this was your plan all the time?” Napoleon asked, his hand coming to rest on Illya’s thigh.

Illya shrugged, but his eyes sparkled merrily. “Couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day…”

Napoleon hmphed, “I’m going to get you back for this, you know.” he warned his partner ominously, softly nibbled Illya’s neck and beginning to work his way downwards.

Illya shivered delightedly. “Oh, I’m counting on it…"


End file.
